


Waves

by utsu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Side Story, vague and out of the blue but fun to write all the same, was thinking about swimming and suddenly the kagehina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:43:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1587029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/utsu/pseuds/utsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a boy. (There's always a boy)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waves

Hinata didn’t like the water.

It made him feel held down and claustrophobic. It was heavy and thick and weighed him down to the bottom like an anchor out at sea; alone and abandoned and only jostled by waves. Waiting for someone else to come lift him up and break him through the surface.

He liked to be out in the open, in the air, where he could leap up, up, up, and come crashing down, down, down, skinned knees and a skinned heart for show. Where his own legs were underneath him and they were strong and they were ready to pick him back up again. He felt them, each step against the solid ground. Sometimes he could run so fast each step would become an echo to his fluttering heartbeat, a rhythm he both produced and chased and became. He liked to chase his heartbeat, actually. He really liked to.

  

There was a boy. Well, he was stubborn and he was rude but he was honest and he was good and he was midnight moonlight shining through a break in the clouds, casting each and every speck of dust in a glowing shroud of light that made you want to reach out and taste them. He made you want to taste him. There was a boy, and he knew how to make Hinata chase his heartbeat and catch it in his throat and swallow it back down with the taste of stars on his tongue. 

 

The boy tasted like victory. He was cold and jagged and there was a history so sharp in his veins that coming near him felt like the bitter bite of winter and his eyes cast shadows so deep it was hard to breathe while looking into them. But those shadows whispered dirty terrible secrets into Hinata’s soul and he found his heart picking up that familiar rhythm and he didn’t know if he wanted to run or stay because either way, his heart was pounding out that same excited cacophony behind his delicate skeleton. 

 

There was a boy. He bit and kicked and chewed his way out from under physical contact like a starving but stubborn beast, too proud to give in, too afraid to be exposed. But Hinata’s heart raced and the rhythm seemed to entice the beast because he kept coming back for more. But this boy beast had boundaries. He had rules.

 

There was a boy, and the water helped crack him open like a newborn chick.

  

The water was cold, and when it wasn’t it felt like body temperature and that wasn’t the kind of skin-to-skin contact Hinata was looking for.  
  
But if jumping into a pool and risking the feeling of being held down to the bottom was what it took to hold that boy’s hand, then he’d dive headfirst into the depths and tie himself willingly. He’d open his mouth and let the water touch every part of him, get so familiar with the slippery feel of it that eventually it becomes less of a prison and more of a haven. His feet learn to plant themselves underneath him and accept the stillness of the Earth as his foundation, and his senses take their turn learning to chase his heartbeat, not because of his fear of drowning, but because of the anticipation of the connection.

Those waves he’d imagined earlier feel more welcoming when he knows they aren’t just there to jostle him, but in fact are bringing him ever closer to his intention. His heart begins its rhythm and he counts the beats until he can’t keep up.  
Long, thin fingers slide through his and hold steady. A reward. A promise.  
His heart breaks pace. This is different. This is new. Every time, it is new.

 

There is a boy. He has formless demons in his eyes and a whip for a tongue, but his hands are steady and secure and his body is strong and deceptively gentle. Under the cover of water he reaches out and holds the sun against his skin and lets his winter bones connect bodily with summer heat, chests pressed together and noses tucked into lithe curves of necks with toes touching toes. A rare moment of stillness in a world that keeps on spinning.

 

They create their own rhythm.


End file.
